Case of the Corrupt Uncle
by ashleigh-has-been-lokid
Summary: English assignment turned fanfic.  Three of Sherlock's cousins have been killed and his uncle is behind it.  PS - This earned me a 96%


I WROTE THIS FOR ENGLISH CLASS AND IT GOT ME 96%. Rate and Review please

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It was very early on a cold, wet Tuesday morning when Sherlock Holmes received a telephone call from Scotland Yard.

'What's wrong Lestrade?' he asked, his voice sounded annoyed.

'There's been a murder on the other side of London and two strange things have been found at the scene,' he said, and Sherlock heard rain in the background, but he was really curious now. He wanted to know what they found.

'What was found?' he asked, trying to hide his excitement.

'Your gun,' Lestrade replied, 'and a wallet, this woman's name was Katherine Holmes, was she related to you by any chance?'

'Yes, she was,' he replied, then he gasped. 'Wait, you said my gun was found also?'

'Yes,' Lestrade replied.

Sherlock thought it was curious, but he did think anything of it until the next morning.

The next morning when Sherlock got the call from Scotland Yard, he decided to take the case.

The previous night his cousin Elizabeth had been shot in the head, just like Katherine had. After the call, he made a mental list on all the people in his family who had strongly disliked Katie and Lizzie.

He went to the morgue to take a further look at his cousin's bodies.

'Hi Sherlock,' Molly said as she greeted him with a sweet smile, 'would you like some coffee?'

'Yes, thank you Molly,' he replied. After examining the bodies he narrowed the list down to anyone who had access to his gun and anyone who despised his cousins that greatly. They had been shot in the head and they had their throats and wrists slit. He knew it must have been someone they trusted because they didn't seem to have put up fights. Just then, he felt a sharp pain go up his right leg. 'Ow,' he said. He looked up to see Molly.

'Now you pay attention to me,' she said, 'now, about that coffee, let's go get it.'

Three hours later Sherlock arrived back at 221B Baker Street. Molly had taken him out for coffee and she had talked to him after that. He had told her about the case and she asked him if

there was going to be a funeral and he actually didn't know. When he got home and checked his messages, his phone displayed a text from Mycroft that read "The funerals have been planned for next Wednesday." He asked John to come with him and he accepted. Sherlock went to bed early that night.

Thursday morning was dreadful. Sherlock found out his cousin Andrea had been murdered the previous night. Sherlock finally realized who the killer was. It was his Uncle David, the only one who had hated the three girls more than anything. He had been very upset when they had turned out to be smarter and more liked in the family. He knew who the next intended target was. His cousin Barbara, very smart and pretty, as well as like throughout the town. He called her and asked her to come over. He felt it was his job to keep her safe.

She came over right away, had dinner with him, Mrs. Hudson and John. Around seven thirty, she received a text from their Uncle David. He asked her to meet him at his house so they could mend what had been broken. He wanted to talk like two civilized people. Sherlock agreed to go with her. They left at eight o'clock and went to his home on the other side of the city. In the cab they discussed their plan. Barbara would go in first and hold him off and Sherlock would ring the doorbell at the signal.

They arrived at his home and Barbara rang his doorbell and was admitted. About ten minutes later he heard a scream. That was his cue. He went up to his uncle's door and rang the doorbell. When his uncle opened the door, Sherlock punched him and knocked him out.

He went upstairs and told Barbara to leave and fetch Scotland Yard and to call Watson. She left and once his uncle had regained consciousness, Sherlock tied him up in a chair and pulled out the gun he had borrowed from Watson.

'So, Sherlock,' his Uncle David chuckled, 'figured it out as always.'

'Yes,' Sherlock replied, cocking the gun that he had in his hand. 'I always do end up figuring these things out.'

'Oh, well, you don't have to shoot me, you know, even though I killed three and I was in the process of killing a fourth member of our family. By the way, how did you figure out it was me who had killed them?'

'They were related to me on my father's side, you're his brother and you hated them for being intelligent, liked in the community and you couldn't bear the fact that they were beautiful. You've also always been a very sexist person. You are a disgrace to this family, Uncle David.'

'Very good genius boy,' his uncle said with a grin.

All Watson and Lestrade heard from the outside of the house was a gunshot.

Ten minutes later Sherlock walked out the door and didn't say a word to Watson until they arrived back at 221B Baker Street.


End file.
